


Death and Spring

by wyobrazacsobie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, SO COOL, Wow, a bonus short, and death itself, and it comes with a bonus short!, and not angsty at all, it's not very dark, silly writings about some spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1579148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyobrazacsobie/pseuds/wyobrazacsobie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you understand the feeling of fear?<br/>It is a shiver through your mind, tingles against your skin and the sudden overwhelming thought that you must not be existing because this must not be happening.<br/>But you are. And it is.<br/>It feels a little like the flu, actually.<br/>----<br/>Death met Spring during Summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death met Spring

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this silly story about Death and Spring. I enjoyed writing it, and it's purposefully not angsty because I used writing this story as an act of desperation to get me out of my mind. I'm in a much better place, now. Thanks, Death!

Death met Spring during Summer. Not the spirit Summer, but the season that humans named. It's much easier going by those human names then it is by their true ones. So much simpler to say.

  
Death is a black mist. Death is actually quite nice. Doesn't say much. Death doesn't have a corporeal body or even really a shape; it moves around objects and likes to fly through clouds. It likes to make shapes out of those forms of water so that it can hear what humans see of them. Death doesn't like to actually touch anything. Death doesn't like to be alone.

  
Spring never shuts up. It's an imitator, likes to chirp like whatever birds are around it and pretend to moan like wind. Spring loves grass the most and has rolled around so much in it that its shape became an awkward mesh of the stuff. It used to be mist, just as Death is, but now it rolls down hills and becomes bigger. Spring likes to stick flowers in itself. Spring is quite silly like that.

  
Death was dancing in the sky when it noticed Spring rolling down a hill. Death looked on and wished it could do the same. Death could go the same speed by flying, but rolling as such seemed like an interesting way to pass the time.

  
Spring didn't even notice Death because it was too busy getting dizzy.

  
Summer wasn't even in the picture. It was Summer, but Summer wasn't nearby. And it wouldn't be for the duration of Death and Spring's meeting. Summer would be over by a pond and making pictures with the heat waves. Summer doesn't care about blooming friendships. Blooming is Spring's niche.

  
So Spring was rolling, and Death was staring, and Summer didn't matter at all because it wasn't there but the season was. Death yearned to join. Spring still had no idea about its surroundings. Summer still didn't matter.

  
All in all, a regular day.

  
By the time Death got together its courage, Spring had rolled to a stop and was staring at the clouds. Oh, that one looks like a giraffe. How interesting.

  
 **Hello** , Death said. Spring suddenly sprung from its relaxed position and spun in place until facing Death. But Spring doesn't have a face – how odd.

  
 **Hello** , said Death again.

  
Spring twittered like a bird at Death, and Death had no idea what it was saying, but none of the twitters sounded mean or hostile so Death continued.

  
 **May I join your rolling**? Death asked as nicely as it could.

  
Spring twittered some more and began to roll to the top of the hill.

  
Death quietly followed. It was mist, after all. It was hard, if not impossible, to do anything to make notice.

  
Spring spun in place at the top and faced Death, although it still had no face. Odd.

  
Death stood beside it and together they counted to three, then began in their own way down the hill.

  
They had both counted to three. Their friendship was already as such that they could read each others intents about when to roll down a hill at the same time.

  
Or something like that.

  
At the bottom, Spring found seven flowers and arranged them meticulously on a piece of its round grassy surface. Oh, how wonderful. Spring now had a face.

Death and Spring rolled down the hill for the next three days. Summer still didn't matter at all.

 

* * *

 

Death and Spring separated and came together a lot of times that year. For the first time in ever existing, Death had a favorite memory. It and Spring were rolling down a hill during Autumn. The season Autumn, not the spirit Autumn. Autumn was actually a bit of a loner and didn't like company much.

  
The ground was muddy and gross and all wet. It wasn't the best alternative to their other game, which was when Spring would stare at the clouds as Death made pictures. Spring always guessed the weirdest things, and its face was always facing the wrong way. What a silly spirit.

  
By the end of their rolling fun, Death was surprised to find it had a corporeal body. Its mist, though, was still happily misting along inside this sudden muddy, gross, and actually really wet blob of a thing. It smelled nasty, really. A little bit like mulch.

  
But Spring, silly Spring, was very much excited. It was rolling in circles around Death as if in a fit, throwing flowers and twittering like crazy. The flowers got stuck in Death's mud and Spring spun in place in excitement.

  
Moments passed. The flowers didn't die.

  
Death felt the first greatest feeling it ever felt. Something it heard descriptions of from humans: Happiness.

  
Humans really did have great names for things. Such a simple word for an event so grand.

 

* * *

 

Death didn't like its talent much. And humans didn't like it much for what it was talented at. But Death wouldn't stop. Not for the world. Every one of the spirits like it had to do their job, no matter if they liked it or not. Death had to transfer old life. Winter had to bring cold. Sickness had to test human strength. Death didn't think there was anything wrong with this, really. But it still felt...something for every moan and tear of sadness. You'd think that because that happened, Death would stop. But every spirit was important. Life took Deaths' transfers and put them in peaceful places. Summer melted the ice. And Health had a fancy for rejuvenation. A wonderful spirit. Great at parties.

  
But really, if anything asked, and no thing would, Death would say it doesn't like to be alone. It thinks humans wouldn't like to be alone either.

 

* * *

 

Death goes to Spring in Fall, but not the spirit Fall, the season Fall. Fall is actually kind of irritating. Its moods change quickly and sporadically, and it's a little annoying. Death doesn't like Fall much. But Death sees Spring in Fall (not with Fall) and tries to explain its thoughts on its talent and what it thinks on its talent and much like, actually, what was said above. Spring twitters and doesn't understand what Death tries to say. Death is okay with that. Even after all this time, Death doesn't understand much of what Spring has to say either.

 

* * *

 

Four hundred and thirty six years later and Death is a little tired. It wishes that someone could take its job, if only for a moment, so that it can be held for once. Death really wants a hug, but it doesn't know that word, so its left with a want of an impression of safety and closeness that it can't quite interpret and can't quite achieve no matter how much mud it rolls onto itself. It's a little irritating, actually. And Spring keeps staring at it with an odd expression on its flowered face.

 

* * *

 

Creation tells Death that it will be meeting Life tomorrow. Death has met Life, it tells Creation, and Creation understands. It then tells Death that it will be meeting Life for the second-to-last time.

  
Death understands and is suddenly filled with happiness and also a feeling that Sickness explained once, something a little like the flu. Death leaves Creations' presence and meets Spring on top of a hill. The season doesn't matter. They never really did.

  
Death tells Spring. Spring twitters.

  
 **You know**? Death asks.

  
Spring twitters.

  
 **Oh** , Death says. Death rolls until it bumps against Spring.

  
 **Thank you** , Death says. Death knows what crying is. It's around it a lot. But it doesn't understand why it feels like committing such an act when it feels nothing of sadness.

  
They count to three then roll down the hill side by side. They continue on, together, in the direction where Life waits for them both.

 


	2. she met him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She meets him and everything is still, undoubtedly, silly, even in different planes of existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus.

Alice knows of the irritating classmate of hers, but she never thought she'd meet him. The college and the class was too big. And he was too bright. Too bubbly.  
  
Too energetic and _annoying.  
  
_ But here he is, smiling at her from the seat beside her holding his binders to his chest and asking about her flower.   
  
'It's just a flower,' she says.  
  
'It's never just a flower,' he says back. She looks at him in confusion. Of course it can be just a flower.  
  
'Of course it can be just a flower,' she says out loud, but he starts talking again over her words.  
  
'No, there's a reason,' he says. 'Was it pretty? Did you get it from a crush? Is it a memento of a wonderful memory or does it mean nothing and you just thought _you_ would be pretty with a daisy in your gorgeous hair?'   
  
She blushes. 'Did you just-'  
  
'So which is it?' he says.   
  
She stares, and he stares, and her lips quirk and she's wondering is this is a dare or if this is just him. Nobody talks much to her. Not with how dark her everything is.   
  
Middle-schoolers can be mean – when you grow up as the demon child, you don't expect much change in college, especially since her nickname preceded her throughout highschool.   
  
'I...' she says. 'I thought it was pretty. And it was already picked, just thrown on the ground. So...why not.'   
  
He smiles suddenly, says, 'Lovely,' then continues on to ask about where she found the flower, why that particular flower, and also, yes, he did say her hair was gorgeous because it is.   
  
She can't stop smiling and she hasn't had time to answer any questions, but she gets in a 'What's your name?'  
  
He pauses for only a moment to say, 'Greg.' Then continues on his apparent monologue.   
  
He __is a little irritating, she thinks. And also quite silly.  
  
The End.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the bonus story, as well as, hopefully, the original story! To clear up some confusion, Death and Spring met Life in order to be reincarnated into humans together. Spring noticed Death's down mood and wanted to help, and what's greater than becoming the one thing that Death admired!? So cool, Spring! Greg is Spring and Death is Alice - also another thing: They become absolute best friends and do not hook up. And they totally do roll down a hill together as humans. At least once.   
> Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Oh goodness, that's the end of the story! OH! But, look! There's a next button! Unless you're reading this with the full story loaded on one page. In that case, wait! There's more!


End file.
